


Scotland in the Semifinals!

by KyraAnnCoombes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Non-Canon Relationship, Post - Deathly Hallows, Post-Hogwarts, Quidditch, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyraAnnCoombes/pseuds/KyraAnnCoombes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scotland's made it farther in this year's World Cup than they have in Oliver Wood's whole life. All he wants to do is cheer on his favorite team, but it seems his girlfriend's family would rather force him to throw a huge party and let everyone get way too drunk...A quick, fluffy story full of Weasleys and unusual, non-canon pairings! T for partying and implied sexuality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from FFN.

Well, this certainly didn't happen often.

Oliver Wood was 26 years old, and this was the second time in his life that Scotland had made it through the quarterfinals of the Quidditch World Cup. The first time had been the year he was born.

"It's  _your_ fault we lost to Argentina that year," his father used to tell him whenever Scotland inevitably lost in the playoffs. "Their biggest fan was missing!" He'd then point at his own chest, before crushing his only son in a hug to show him he wasn't being serious.  _You'll get it this year, da,_ Oliver smiled to himself.

George tapped him on the shoulder and brought him back to the present and the Leaky Cauldron, where he and his friends had gathered to listen to the match. "When's the party, mate?" the tall redhead asked, motioning to the wizened old barkeep for another ale.

Oliver scoffed. "Who said I'm having a party? And if I was, who said I'd invite the likes of you?" he joked. "Last thing I need to dampen the glory of my team in the semifinals is one of your damned puking pastries or whatever."

George rolled his eyes. " _Pastilles,_ mate. They're Puking  _Pastilles._ You'd think there'd be some brand recognition amongst friends…" He shouted a few chairs down the bar to his older brother. "Oi! Charlie!"

Charlie turned reluctantly from the tan wizard he'd been talking to, a blush creeping underneath his multitude of freckles. "This'd better be important, Holey," he chided.

"It is! Oliver and Ginny are having a party for the next Scotland match. And I'd bet-"

Exasperated, Oliver threw his hands in the air. "Why does it have to be at our place? My birthday was  _four months ago,_ and I burned my arm on some damned exploding confetti in my bathroom yesterday!"

"I forgot about that! Merlin, was that brilliant!" Lee Jordan chuckled deeply. George joined him, until everything but the scar on his missing ear was redder than his hair.

"You know," George said, once he'd stopped laughing, "I'd bet with all the connections our lot has, we could easily get tickets. How 'bout it, Percy?"

The third Weasley look startled at the mention of his name. No big fan of Quidditch or drinking, the quiet, reserved young man had only gone to the pub at the behest of his brothers and former roommate, and had been half-asleep at the bar for most of the last hour. He straightened his horn-rimmed glasses before speaking. "Everyone in my department is entitled to one ticket for themselves plus two for family or acquaintances, though I know there are some less than scrupulous colleagues of mine that have been selling-"

"Can it, Perce. So that's three from you, probably the same for Hermione's department…Dad's retired, but I'd bet he could scrounge up a few if he needed…" George began counting on his fingers, "…Harry's an Auror, on top of being Harry bloody Potter, so he can help…" his eyes went wide as he remembered his last connection. "Oh! And ickle Ronniekins is in working for Games & Sports now, so he'll cover the rest of what we need." He nodded, apparently satisfied with his approximations. "It's settled, then, mate!" he exclaimed, clapping Oliver on the shoulder. "I've got to be hitting the old, dusty Apparition trail," he added, draining his last pint. "You all know how the wife gets."

Lee grimaced in acknowledgement. "S'pose I have to be getting on as well…Don't want Holey here to lose his other ear while Apparating under the influence, do we?"

George snorted and paid the tab, moving to say his goodbyes. "It was nice to meet you, Wallaby," George said, shaking the hand of Charlie's date. "You men have a nice night," he added, winking at his older brother, who blushed in mortification.

As Lee and George left, Percy placed a few Sickles on the counter to pay his minimal tab and excused himself as well, asking Oliver to say hello to Ginny and nodding curtly at Charlie and his date. Oliver could tell that he meant well, but he knew it would probably take some adjusting before Percy was comfortable seeing his older brother and another man as an item. But he'd come around.

Oliver paid and said his own goodbyes, buzzing with excitement from the beer and Quidditch and eager to get home.


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny was wrapping up a Floo conversation with her mother when the front door's Caterwauling Charm whistled at her.

"Go on, dear," her mother smiled, "I'm sure he'll want to tell you all about the match."

The door thundered open before Ginny could nod in agreement.

"GINNY!" Oliver shouted exuberantly, rushing towards the fireplace. "GINNY, WE-Oh, good evening, Mrs. Weasley," he said quietly. "Scotland's headed to the semifinals."

Molly chuckled. "You two go talk about brooms and bludgers, I'll see you Sunday night."

The couple bid Mrs. Weasley goodbye, and she blew a kiss before her face disappeared from the fire. As the flames changed back from green back to orange, Oliver lifted his girlfriend off the ground and spun her around, babbling incoherently about the victory. "…But we WON, Ginny!" he protested as she smacked his shoulders.

"I've heard!" she said darkly, "Ern almost knocked down my door to tell me, in the middle of a bloody conference!" She sighed in relief as he finally put her down and kissed him lightly in thanks.

"I wish you could have been there, Gin," he murmured, wrapping his strong arms around her and kissing the top of her head.

She poked him in the ribs. "Yeah, well, unlike certain physical education teachers, I had parent teacher conferences tonight," she grumbled. "There were many grievances amongst the parents of the Third Form, apparently."

Oliver played hurt. "Oi! Teaching tiny witches and wizards to tell one end of a broomstick from the other is an  _extremely_ valuable civil service!" he joked, sounding almost as self-important as Percy. "Besides," he added, playing with fire, "Maybe I'm just so damned good at my job that no one had any complaints," he grinned, full of smug (though feigned) pride.

Ginny pulled away and crossed her arms, glaring. "Well I guess if you're so bloody marvelous, you can sort yourself out the next time some six year-old's baby magic charms your hair purple or bewitches a broomstick to smack your arse repeatedly!"

"You're mean."

"I'm tired."

"I was kidding."

"I wasn't."

"I love you."

"Humph." Her tired grumble was muffled as she buried her face in his jumper.

He leaned back and poked her forehead. "I love you," he repeated stubbornly.

"I know," she mumbled, burying herself in his chest again, near her breaking point from the long, frustrating day.

Oliver locked eyes with her before kissing her slowly. "I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"I love you, too," she conceded, placing her small hands on his shoulders and pushing him onto the sofa behind them. She sat on his lap and rested her head on his shoulder as an unspoken apology. "Tell me about your night," she said sleepily.

"Percy and Charlie send their regards, a-" he began.

"But not George? Git," she interrupted.

He looked down at her, entertained. "Am I telling you, or not?"

"Sorry." She kissed his cheek. "Keep going."

"Charlie's new bloke seems nice, but he didn't much to anyone but Charlie. I think his name is Wallace. He's Australian, though, and George calls him Wallaby, then pretends he can't hear when anyone corrects him.

Ginny snorted in amusement, but didn't interrupt again.

"Percy's a bit uncomfortable with it, I think, but once he unruffles his feathers about it, he'll be fine," he added.

"The only thing Percy's more resistant to than change is women," she responded, rolling her eyes. "You'd think he'd be more receptive, seeing as the whole family thought  _he_ was the poof until Charlie came out about it."

"Be nice," he chided her. "Percy's my friend. He's just a bit…stuck in his ways, is all. Anyways," he continued, ignoring her indignant mumbling, "Your darling brother George went ahead and told everyone that we'd be having a party for the next Scotland match-"

"Our house still isn't clean from the last party George strong-armed us into having!" she erupted in protest.

Oliver nodded in agreement and continued calmly. "I told him as much, but he didn't seem to care. Knowing him, it'll be more exploding confetti and puking pastries-"

"Pastilles," she corrected him absentmindedly.

"You sound just like him, d'you know that? But anyways, he told Lee and Charlie and Percy and has certainly already told Hermione by now…then she'll tell Harry and he'll tell Ron…"

"…So I guess we're having a party," she said, unenthusiastic.

He shrugged. "It could be fun. The match is in July, so we'll be off of work for the summer, and if we don't let anyone in the door without food or alcohol…"

"…We'll have a cottage full of drunken Weasleys, which worked out  _so_ well the last time."

Oliver chuckled and kissed her nose. "Off to bed, you, or we'll sleep through the England/Japan match tomorrow morning. If you quit being so damned grumpy, I may even make you breakfast."

She laughed and gave a small cheer, wrapping her arms around his neck like a little girl. "I want pancakes!"

With Ginny still in his arms, Oliver stood. She squeaked in protest as he lifted her and started walking towards their bedroom.

"Put me  _down!_ " she shrieked. "Just because I'm small and you're strong doesn't mean you can just pick me up and take me wherever you'd like!"

Laughing loudly, he countered, "I don't see anyone trying to stop me," and slung her over his shoulder.

It was a mistake. "I'm your girlfriend, not a sack of bloody potatoes!" she seethed, beating her fists on his back. It was then that she saw her opportunity. Sticking out of the back pocket of his jeans was his wand. She grabbed it and fired a quick Stinging Hex at the seat of his pants. Coming from his wand, it was less than half of its potential strength, but Ginny's hexes were legendarily powerful and half strength was painful enough.

He froze, letting out a heavily accented string of expletives. Ginny wriggled out of his grip and took off running towards their room, reflexes quick as ever, while he followed, the slightest hint of a smile twisting the corner of his mouth despite his cursing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say, I LOVE writing these two together. Also, if it wasn't clear, they're both teachers at a primary school for witches and wizards too young to go to Hogwarts. Thanks for reading, and remember…Reviews keep me motivated to post chapters quickly!


	3. Chapter 3

"Wake up, layabouts!" the alarm clock hollered. Adapted from a Muggle contraption by Mr. Weasley, the alarm didn't shut off until the people it was charged with waking showed clear signs of rousing. Most mornings, Oliver hated it. He was a much lighter sleeper and easier waker than Ginny, which mean enduring five to ten extra minutes of the over-excited alarm while his girlfriend struggled to get out of bed.

He had little patience for it this morning. In one motion, he rolled towards her and poked her in the stomach. Apparently, she'd put on his jumper from the night before sometime before falling asleep, and there was a tiny puddle of drool on the collar. Coupled with her sleepy frown, it could almost have been sweet…if the alarm wasn't going off.

"Get up," he grumbled.

Ginny mumbled an incoherent response and burrowed under the blankets.

Oliver sat up, shook his head, and rose from the bed. He picked the alarm clock up and set it on top of where it looked like her head was and walked away. Knowing she'd want it later, he dug her favorite England Quidditch shirt out of the clean laundry basket by the closet and set it on top of the Ginny-shaped lump in the blankets.

By the time she made it into the kitchen, he'd showered, set the table, cooked breakfast, and was elbow deep in dishes.

"Pancakes!" she beamed sleepily, hugging her boyfriend from behind and sitting at the small table.

Oliver dried his hands and turned, swatting her hand away before she could reach for her breakfast. "Say you're sorry for stinging me last night, and then you can have some."

Ginny snorted derisively and reached in for the pancakes anyways. "I thought I apologized sufficiently last night," she suggested, grinning.

He stopped her hand again, after a moment of hesitation. They'd been together for three years, but comments of that nature still made him blush somehow.

While Oliver was flustered, Ginny went in with her other hand and grabbed three pancakes. "Seriously," she said, reaching for the syrup, "you should be glad it was your wand and not mine, or you wouldn't be able to walk."

"I don't care whose wand it was," he glowered, sliding the syrup out of her reach (and the eggs, for good measure), "my arse still hurts."

She looked up at him and sighed. "I'm sorry, Oliver. Will you eat breakfast and listen to the match with me, now?" she asked sweetly.

Satisfied, Oliver turned the radio up and sat across from her.

They'd missed the presentation of the English mascot, but had tuned in just in time to hear Ludo Bagman describing the Japanese presentation.

"It's been a while since I've seen a kitsune as majestic as this one," the distinctive voice crackled. "For those of you listening at home, the Japanese mascot is a white nine-tailed fox, recognized throughout the East as a symbol of intelligence and powerful magic…kitsune can also be very convincing shapeshi-and there it is! Ladies and gentlemen, the beautiful fox has become a beautiful woman, shyly fanning her tails behind her! Oh, listeners at home, you are missing  _quite_ the show! The woman is a fox once again, and breathing more fire than any dragon I've ever seen! She's floating high above the grass on the pitch and-Merlin, that's gorgeous! I couldn't tell you how she's done it, folks, but she's made the rising sun of Japan out of thin air!" Applause thundered through the stadium. "Well, listeners, if the presentations of the mascots were any indication, this will certainly be quite the match!"

"Thanks for breakfast, by the way. This is excellent," Ginny said, mouth full of eggs.

He hushed her. "The players are coming out!"

"And…Here! They! Come! For England it's….Winston! Cooke! Smith! White! Roberts! Aaaaaaand Radcliffe! For Japan, Yamati! Nikkaido! Hatsudo! Hawari! Kibucho! Kikari! Aaaaaaand Itsui!"

Ginny was leaning so far forward that her hair was in danger of landing in syrup.

A whistle blew fuzzily on the radio. "The Quaffle is in the air! Shelby Winston of Derbyshire, England is the first to it…"

"We must be a good couple," Ginny observed later that afternoon, sitting in the shade of a large tree in front of their house.

"What makes you say so? Besides the obvious," he teased, carrying a pitcher of lemonade, two glasses, and a pad of paper from the house out to the blanket where Ginny was sitting.

"Both our teams are headed to the semifinals," she said simply, taking a glass from him. " _Someone_ must be pleased."

Oliver rolled his eyes and filled her glass. "I think it's more reflective of a general dearth of talent following the war, not to mention that many nations are starting to value domestic brooms over the most popular alternatives, some would say to their detriment. Although I do like to attribute a bit of Scotland's success to the resurging independence movement." He sat across from her and handed her the pad of paper, drawing a pen from his pocket. "But anyways, plan this party, will you?"

She pouted. "Why do I have to do it now? The party's not for another month and a half! Give me an afternoon to celebrate my victory, at least!"

"Because," he said patiently, "I know you. The longer you put it off, the less you'll want to do it and the more you're like to forget it entirely. And if  _that_ happens, George will plan the party himself. Then we'll end up with stripping elves and exploding piles of dragon dung."

Her laughter at the last bit almost sent lemonade out her nose. "Okay! Fine. Who are we inviting?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! The next chapter will have some other characters in it, and the chapter after that is where we start getting into several other non-canon ships. Reviews are the best!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've skipped ahead to the morning of the big party! This chapter is strong in the Hermione/Ginny friendship zone, but I apologize if it reads like filler.

The hot July sun was high in the late morning sky. Ginny was only halfway through with her French braid when the front door whistled to signal an approaching guest. "Ginny?" a female voice called from outside. "I'm carrying a lot of things, so I'm just going to come in, alright?"

Being married to George Weasley had certainly made Hermione Granger a bolder witch. She opened the door, set a large pile of items on the coffee table, and began casting Impervius Charms on everything in sight.

"Erm….Hello, Hermione," Ginny said cautiously, tying off her braid.

"Oh, good morning!" Hermione said distractedly between muttered incantations. "I'd pick up your wand, if I were you…Impervius for everything, and Protego for the valuables," she explained without turning away from the cabinet she was protecting.

"Gods, what's he going to do?" she asked worriedly, picking her wand up from under the pile Hermione had thrown on the table. She sent the two brooms by the front door flying for the bedroom, and a few books followed. One was Ginny's NEWT level Charms book, followed by an aged volume called  _Charms for a Happy Hearth_ and a stack of novels.

"Well…" Hermione hesitated, "I've sworn not to tell you, actually…But I don't think it's anything dangerous!" she added quickly as Ginny's face knit in frustration. "It's only a bit messy, I promise. He hasn't even really told me very much about it, but I promised to kill him if it ruined any of your belongings. Have you protected the carpets? That's a beautiful top!" She brushed some of her bushy hair out of her eyes, speaking quickly and disjointedly, as she did when flustered.

"Oh! Thanks," Ginny said, more than a little nervous about whatever George had planned for the party. "No, but I can do it. What have you brought with you?" she asked, curiously poking the pile on the table with her wand.

"Be careful!" Hermione squeaked, pulling something rectangular and heavy looking from the pile. "Muggle electronics and magic don't exactly mix," she warned. The rectangle proved to be a silver laptop computer. "Believe me, it was some pretty interesting wand work to load it up with music for the party. About half of it is wizard music, and the rest is just the Muggle music I keep on it," she explained.

"How on earth did you get all of this on this thing?" Ginny asked incredulously, poring over the lit up screen. "The Weird Sisters? Godwyn Spark?"

"Like I said, it took some experimenting," Hermione exhaled, launching into a complicated and detailed description of how she'd managed to copy the multitude of music. "Of course, it's probably in explicit violation of several Muggle copyright laws, but they don't exactly account for magic, do they?" she finished.

"Brilliant," Ginny muttered, scrolling through the music library. She didn't recognize a lot of it, but Oliver, Harry, and the other with some Muggle upbringing probably would. There were a few bands that she'd heard before, though. "You and Oliver have some similar tastes, actually. Hey! The Stone Roses! I love them!" she said enthusiastically. "Oh, he has a record player at his mum's," she explained, noticing her friend's questioning glance.

Hermione nodded. "Right. Well, I've also brought a few tables and tablecloths, because I didn't think you had many, and George's multiple Gobstones and Exploding Snap sets, plus some Muggle board games that are a bit more fun after a few drinks," she listed with a blush, "as well as all of our things for the match, and some pyjamas in case we're both too intoxicated to reliably Apparate or Floo home." She stretched briefly and began unshrinking tables.

"I'd help, but I don't have your knack for Transfiguration. I'm going to put up some more decorations, then make sandwiches so we're not Apparating on an empty stomach. You can join me, when you wrap up."

Ginny was slicing a loaf of her mother's bread when Hermione joined her. "The tables are ready. It looks really good out there," she said, smiling nervously. "Do you…Do you know if Ron's coming? I asked Harry to find out, but he probably forgot-"

"He's working the match," she answered distractedly, "but he's coming to the party. Can you get the turkey from the icebox? And the cheese, too." Molly Weasley would faint if she saw the icebox full of Muggle groceries, but it was a convenience Ginny didn't want to live without.

Hermione complied, and Ginny scrutinized her as she handed over the deli products. "Why?" she asked, rather suspicious.

The older witch sighed, picking a splinter off of the knife block on the counter. "I'm worried about him," she admitted. "He still lives at home, he doesn't go out, he quit the Auror training, he doesn't  _talk_ to me-"

"In his defense," Ginny cut in, "you did leave him, shack up with his older brother, and proceed to marry that brother. Shit, you're lucky he never found out about the time you drank an entire bottle of Harry's birthday firewhisky, ate half your potion ingredients, and tried to-"

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "That was  _four years ago!_ " she moaned, exasperated.

Ginny shrugged, piling turkey onto each open-faced sandwich. "Maybe Ron's not as emotionless as we thought."

Her friend nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad he'll be here…I sort of invited someone to meet him," she added nonchalantly.

"What? Who?" Ginny demanded, her voice muffled through a mouthful of cheese.

"You're such a Weasley. Chew before you choke, will you?" she laughed. "Do you happen to remember Susan Bones? Hufflepuff from ou-well, sorry,  _my_ year?" As their schools years faded further and further into the past, Ginny's friends tended to forget that she had only been peripherally involved in their greatest adventures.

She nodded. "Sure…light hair, loved Herbology? Seems a better match for Neville than Ron," she frowned, wondering what her friend had in mind.

"No, that's her friend, Hannah. Susan's got red hair…honestly, you of all people should recognize her-"

"What does  _that_ mean? D'you think there's just some secret ginger registration list that goes around, with people keeping tabs on us? I'll have you know that that happened and it was called the Holoca-"

" _Anyways,"_  Hermione said over Ginny's sure to be insensitive humor, "She works in my office. She also went into the Auror training, but she dropped it before Ron and Harry even started. She's very friendly, considering…"

"…Considering what? We can handle werewolves and Luna, I think we can handle an old schoolmate." Her mind conjured images of awful boils and creepy hobbies, and she wasn't so sure.

"Her entire family died in the war," Hermione said sadly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles…even her little brother," she finished.

"Merlin," Ginny breathed, feeling terrible for what she'd been thinking. The more she thought about it, the more sense the prospective match made. Susan needed a family, Ron needed a friend, and they both needed to put the ghosts of war behind them as their friends already had. "I'll allow it," she decided, "as long as you're subtle about it. If Ron figures out you're behind this, he won't be having any of it." As Hermione nodded in assent, there was another whistle at the door. "Get that, will you?" Ginny instructed. "And about earlier…" she moved her hand across her mouth to signify that both of their lips should stay sealed.

Hermione nodded again and went to the door, letting Percy, Charlie, and Wallace in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this chapter! I really, really love writing the friendship between these two, like I said. I'm sorry if it read like filler! They head to the French countryside for the match in the next chapter, and you can expect cameos and interactions from many, many characters!


	5. Chapter 5

An hour and a large mountain of sandwiches later, the cottage was loaded with people. All but Charlie and Wallace wore the blue and white of Scotland, while the couple wore the gold, blue, and scarlet of Romania. Some were more enthused than others–while Percy wore a simple blue robe, Luna Lovegood had fashioned herself into a Kelpie after the team mascot, her dirty blond hair charmed to look like a mane of greenish black seaweed and her robes were tight and covered in sea serpent-like scales.

Harry was smiling good-naturedly as his girlfriend was explaining her costume to an uncomfortable-looking Wallace when he called out to Ginny. "Oi! Ginny!"

"What d'you want, Potter? I'm talking, here!" she teased, turning from Charlie and Hermione towards her friend.

"Who are we missing? If I eat any more sandwiches I'll throw up after we Apparate!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Quit eating, then, stupid! George and Lee will be here any–" she was interrupted by a loud crack in the center of the room.

"SURPRISE!" Lee and George shouted in unison.

"George!" Hermione scolded, "You can't just Apparate into your sister's living room! It's extremely–"

"Why not? Nothing  _bad_ happened!"

"You knocked your brother over!" Surely enough, Percy was red-faced and spluttering on the floor, glasses askew.

"Him? He's fine," George said loudly, extending hand to help Percy up. As soon as their hands met, Percy was consumed in a puff of dark smoke. A silence fell over the party as they nervously watched the smoke clear. When it did, everyone but Percy and Hermione erupted in raucous laughter.

Whatever George had done left Percy's skin painted with white sparkles and his hair (and eyebrows) as blue as his robes. Naturally, he was positively squawking at George to reverse the charm, running into the kitchen and giving himself an impromptu sink bath.

"'S no use, Perce!" George called after him, "It won't wear off until the match is through!" He stifled a chuckle as Percy cried out about important acquaintances and 'an air of professionalism.' Most of the guests were snickering as well, and Luna was wracked with high-pitched giggles.

"Ladies and Gentlewizards!" George announced dramatically, "You're looking at Weasley's Wizard Wheeze's newest product, Fanatic Façades! Perfect fo–"

"Quit shilling your crap, Weasley! We've got a Quidditch match to get to!" Oliver cut in, dragging a whimpering Percy from the kitchen.

Oliver had disappeared into his and Ginny's room about an hour prior, after returning from a rather hefty alcohol run. He had apparently spent that time crafting his costume–and quite the costume it was. The scotsman looked like he, too, had been exposed to a Fanatic Façade: his face was painted half-blue, and his short, normally sandy brown hair stuck up wild and shockingly white. For clothes, he wore only a kilt of blue and white tartan, paired with long white socks and bizarre slippers laced up his calves.

"Erm…whatcha got goin' on there, mate?" Lee asked tenuously, prompting Oliver to launch into an explanation of the registered tartan of Scotland National Quidditch, the broomsticks dangling from the pouch on his front (he called it a 'sporran'), why his wand was tucked into his sock, and how his shoes were called ghillies (and were not, as George claimed, deformed ballet slippers), all while trying to push people out of the house.

"Hold it!" Hermione exclaimed, blocking the door. "Every single Weasley needs to put on a  _lot_ of sun block. You, too, Harry and Luna. I simply refuse to be held responsible for anyone's sunburn, so you'd all better get some," she said sternly, giving Oliver a pointed look.

Ginny grumbled, but admitted that it was good of Hermione to force them. The last time she'd worn this top–a pretty tube top done to look like the Scottish flag–she'd been red for a week, and ended up with a dense stripe of new freckles across her shoulders when the burn finally faded.

When Hermione deemed the group sufficiently protected, they gathered everything the were bringing to the game. "Remember," Harry instructed as they stepped out of the house en masse, "We're Apparating to Bill and Fleur's country house, then Ron will meet us and we'll walk to the pitch, alright? If you're not sure where you're going, grab a Weasley, but preferably not George."

"I resent that remark, oh Potter you rotter!" George pouted, using an old nickname of Peeves's for Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes and took Luna by the arm. George Disapparated; Harry shouted a genial "See you lot at Bill and Fleur's!" and followed with Luna, with everyone else cracking off at more or less the same time.

Thankfully, they all arrived closely enough after George to shout "DON'T TOUCH HIM!" when Ron appeared perilously close to being hit with a Fanatic Façade. It took him about five minutes to regain his self control after he fell down laughing at Percy's ridiculous appearance, and the tall ginger of course claimed that he would have avoided the attack without everyone's warnings. Bill was already outside the small house, and Fleur came out with little Victoire to investigate the commotion.

Small talk with the couple revealed little: mostly exclamations of "'Ow fantastique eet 'as to be en France" from Fleur and quiet expressions from Bill concerning the energy level of toddlers. After Victoire took sufficient delight in her Uncle Percy's curious appearance, the young family retreated back to their quiet life.

"It's a right blessing, have them here," Ron said, leading the way. "A real bed, and hot breakfast every morning…mind, Fleur's no Mum, but Mum can't make crepes, either…it's loads better than what the blokes staying on the grounds can say. We're a little under half a league away," he added, pointing to the top of the stadium peeking out from behind rolling green hills. "Burgundy is lovely, and loads nicer than the last place I was. The England/Japan match was in the bloody hills of Thailand…rained every day, and I came home with so many different types of bug bites I couldn't properly move, breathe, see or shit until Mum pumped me full of about two dozen healing potions.

Ginny snorted and Hermione crinkled her nose in distaste, but Ron kept telling about his duties and adventures. Ginny caught Harry's eye, and both of them smiled at the sight of Ron thriving and having memorable experiences on his own.

By the time time they made it to the stadium, hardly anyone had been able to get a word in edgewise. Ginny noticed that this match seemed much more organized than the last World Cup match she'd been to, but there had been a war brewing then. Ron handed them all their tickets and said he'd see them at the party later, then took off after a foreign man who appeared to be quite naked.

They entered the stadium and found their seats slowly. A colleague of Percy's approached, causing him to hide his bedazzled face behind his sleeve, and some poorly disguised photographers took an interest in Harry. Ginny tried her best to keep Oliver from placing an ambitious bet with George, and Hermione scolded her husband when he persisted. Lee discussed publishing with Luna, and Charlie and Wallace left to get snacks and drinks (and probably sneak a snog or two), while Harry did his best to stay interested in Percy's descriptions of communication and translation gaffes with foreign ministries. Friends of theirs from school and their respective careers passed by frequently, stopping to chat and catch up, and Ginny caught a glance in her Omnioculars of Draco Malfoy sitting in cheaper seats on the other side of the stadium, which gave her a sick pleasure that she attempted to share with her friends before Hermione reminded them that he was quite reformed.

"As reformed as a goblin's hairy arse mole," Ginny scowled.

"What's that ferret-ous little git been up to, anyways? Lee questioned, licorice wands dangling from his nostrils.

"Doing Muggle work as a model, I'd heard," Percy whispered loudly, adding, "he couldn't get a job at the Ministry if he was the last wizard in Britain."

"That's not true," Harry dismissed, "Kingsley and I both personally offered him positions as a cursebreaker and about a thousand other things. I thought he'd moved to the continent."

"I saw him in Belgium last year," Luna said thoughtfully, "He has a very heavy soul, probably on account of all the Infiltrating Slickspits."

Ginny gave Hermione a sideways glance. Even now the highly logical witch had a low tolerance for Luna's peculiar brand of pseudo-magic, and her lips were drawn in a tight line to avoid being rude. The rest of the group's stifled chuckles were drowned out by an extremely enthusiastic advertisement for a Witch Weekly-approved new line of love potions that were taken by the lonely witch in questions instead of given to a hapless victim. Surprisingly, Hermione preened. "You're  _very_ welcome for that, Wizarding world! Honestly, a love potion coercively given to an unsuspecting, non-consenting party is nothing short of rape and I was appalled to see how lax the laws were about it." George's grumbles of 'harmless fun' and 'bad for business' were quickly silenced. "But you simply can't argue that! If the Merope Gaunt Laws had been in place when their namesake lived, the entirety of Wizarding history as we know it would be fundamentally different! Voldemort himself was conceived via coercive love potion, hence the name of the bill, and your own brother was nearly killed by one!"

"I mean, it wasn't like it was an exciting brother or anything, just Ron…" Ginny reasoned jokingly, nonetheless proud of her friend's achievement.

Charlie and Wallace had just returned. "I think they're brilliant laws, Hermione," Wallace contributed, "But too often love potions are talked about in the context of heterosexual relations, when the problem is as bad or worse in the gay wizard communities. I also appreciate your work to end discrimination laws," he finished shyly.

"Which is it you're chasing, Wallaby, my wife or my brother?" George joked, much to Wallace's embarrassment.

"It's Wallace," he corrected meekly, flushing beneath his tan cheeks, his ears as red as any Weasley's.

"What was that, mate? I can't hear you!" George responded loudly, tapping his scarred ear.

Oliver hushed them both when Ludo Bagman ascended to the announcer's podium and tapped his wand against his throat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A really long chapter this time! The first half of the chapter and a bit at the end are basically all Weasley family dynamic dialogues, which I totally love. Also, I did a lot of research about Oliver's costume, haha, so enjoy. Next chapter is about the match itself, then the party starts!


End file.
